The Void of Truth
by SugarRequired
Summary: The internal battle of a death knight blood elf. Rated T for some violence.
1. Chapter 1

**War of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard. I just use their races, classes and regions and twist them for my own pleasure. **

Nahal hacked down another poor citizen that didn't have the sense to run. He was protecting his home and family. _Fools._ They would have a better chance if they ran. He hadn't been able to chase his prey in a long time. The death knight would give them a head start, but in the end he would prevail. His Master would have it no other way.

The voice inside his head encouraged him forward to kill more, blurring the rest of his thoughts into nothingness. Out of habit he took a breath as he turned away from the carnage he had created. His heavy boots thumped hollowly against the wooden floor, making sickly crimson blood prints away from the bodies. The plate armor scraped with each movement of the undead sin'dorei. The death knight paused upon hearing the softest scuff from the closet to his right.

Nahal shoved the door aside, practically tearing it off the hinges. The woman inside screamed, protecting their young behind their bodies. The pleads fell upon deaf ears and he ended the noise they were emitting. The crisp smell of blood hung heavy in the small cabin, the three bodies sprawled on the planks. The crimson liquid soaking into the wood fiber. He snorted under his helmet at the weakness they shown, they didn't even attempt to arm themselves.

The lich took a few steps forward leaving a trail of blood that dripped from his long blade, his movement stalled catching movement in the corner of his eye. His gauntlet seized a short table and it was tossed aside as if it weighed nothing. The young woman pressed her body against the wall, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at him.

"_I am sorry, I didn't know you were there!" He had cried watching the blood flowing down the small pale arm, the girl that had been cut by his practice sword was crying. Those big eyes flowing massive tears that rolled down her cheeks._

"_I'm telling Mother!" The girl threatened running under the short table in the sitting room. "You know you are not suppose to be playing with swords."_

"_No," he had called, kneeling beside the table trying to peer at her. "I'll do anything."_

_The girl smiled with victory._

Pain hit him in the chest, his hand slapped over his heart. "Pejah," he moaned as his will wiggled free from the iron grip. He fell to a knee almost loosing his grip on his sword, he heard the woman scrambling away. More memories started to tease his mind.

"Kill her. Kill them all. Show no mercy." Arthas commanded silently, strengthening the grip on the lone knight.

Nahal let his hand fall, he rose gripping his sword. The pain and memory wiped clean from him. He blinked at the empty spot before turning to see the woman tearing a books off a shelf. He marched toward her, raising his sword to hack her down. She turned and threw a book at him, the hardcover bounced off his shoulder and harmlessly slapped against the floor. He reflected another tome with a swipe of his arm which hit a vase to his left and both smashed on the floor.

"We can free you! You don't have to do this!"

"You will die," he announced, his voice echoing darkly in the helm. She merely stood there squeezing her eyes shut waiting for the end. Nahal granted her a painless one, he turned and walked out of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two in the saga. This is a little gore, so if you have a weak constitution you may not like this. **

**Again I do not own War of Worldcraft. (sorry if there is any sort of mistakes in lore)**

Time blurred before the knight's eyes as he continued to do the king's bidding. His mind stayed silent for the most part as he moved from mission to mission.

The new command spread through the ranks like wild fire, the knights were to prepare for battle and gather near Light Hope Chapel. It was to be a full assault against the enemy, one that their King had been working up for. All they had been commanded to do was in preparation for this one move.

Nahal merely returned to the camp and sharpened his blade, he called his steed and rode with a group of others toward the battlefield. He watched as more filed around their commanding officers, eager for battle in effort to please their king.

"**Spare on one! Rise, minions! Destroy them," Darion Mograine commanded. **

Nahal blinked at the command, the others around him roared with the anticipation of battle, he could not get himself into an ecstatic state. Not that he had been able to since the time he woke in this strange new state of being. He had sensed something was off, this…life was somehow wrong.

The voice whispered in his head forcing him to kick his horse forward, he pulled free his weapon. He followed the other minions into battle, he found an enemy and started swinging his blade with deadly accuracy from his endless practice.

While he was occupied freeing his weapon from someone's skull, the sin'dorei was yanked off his steed. Nahal hit the ground hard on his hip, the plate of armor took the blunt of the blow. He felt the tingle of healing edging around his injury, than a sudden burst from his master gave him full repair.

He rolled to his left, his hand claimed the pommel of his rune blade once again. He swung it around in time to block another sword from dislocating his head. His snarl echoed in his helm, as the human prepared another swing exposing his plated chest to the death knight. Nahal knew going for the obvious attack would more than likely put him into jeopardy, he grinned evilly under the mask of his head gear. He waited for the sword to start the down swing, that was when his heel connected with the human's knee. A horrific snap sent the warrior to the ground screaming in pain. Nahal rose, he watched the other trying to overcome the broken joint. The rune blade sang through the air before it ended the misery to the human.

Nahal's eyes searched for another victim, he scowled at the chaotic battlefield before him. Ghouls and other undead ran about biting and clawing at the armor of the defenders of the Chapel. The tingle of wrong edged back into his mind, the very ground seemed to weld an energy that teased the back of his mind. A familiar essence that had once filled him, before more memories could free themselves they were dispatched by the mental commands of the Lich King.

Fresh troops explode from the chapel running through the fray, Nahal gripped his two handled sword as several headed straight for him. He blocked the first clumsy attempt with ease, than the fighting went deadly serious as they were locked in a dance of sword play. Equally matched, the two warriors parried and blocked getting no where fast. The death knight made a calculated move and missed the fleshly target between the harden plates of his opponent. This left him venerable to a deadly blow to his now exposed neck, which his enemy tried to exploited. He felt the blade slam against the armor on his shoulder and bouncing off slashing the tender flesh of his neck. The blow knocked off his helm which landed in a decaying body of a ghoul a few feet away.

Nahal dislodged himself from the other as blood poured down his chest plate. "You felt that didn't you, fiend?" The solider said moving in for the kill.

Nahal wanted to wipe that smirk off the other's face, he was able only to stumbled and fell on his rear. Weakness rolled through him like lightening, he took a breath feeling a bit of natural healing on the back side of the wound. He may be down, but not out of the game. He had one last trick up his sleeve, he chanted a practiced line and seemingly out of thin air three magenta colored warm flung themselves at the enemy. Giving time that the death knight needed to regain his senses, the bloodworm's spit and teeth tore through the enemies armor to the skin beneath. The man tried to pry the creature off with his hands, only to find the worm stretched when trying to be pulled off.

The death knight gasped at the serge of healing as contact was made, life flowed from the drained solider into the sin'dorei. The enemy continued to desperately hack off the parasitic worms that grew bigger with each pump of his heart. The human solider glared at Nahal in horror and fury. Nahal simply rose to his feet as his wound knitted together, he caught the movement of more enemy soldiers making their way toward him.

He turned to face this new threat, he posed himself in a fighting stance. The blade held up between him and the new challenger. The slender woman in brilliant gold and red armor stilled and stared through the holes of her helm. "Nahal?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: This one has a bit of gore in it (more than usual). So the more sensitive readers beware. _

_I know that in game all the forces against the death knights were mainly human. I sort have given myself some creative liberty in that aspect. _

_Please enjoy! Constructive reviews and such are welcomed. _

_Disclaimer: World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard Entertainment._

The death knight narrowed his eyes at the other unsure how this creature knew his name. He stepped forward, his blade nearly sang as it sliced through the air. He wasn't going to be so stupid this time, he glanced over his shoulder as his bloodworms had finished off the other solider before bursting from their greed, with a sickening pop. The repulsive fluid from the worm splashed anyone standing close enough. He shivered slightly from the withdraw of healing energy, someone to his right wasn't able to get his helm off fast enough and vomit oozed from the openings.

His attention was returned back to the woman that apparently knew him, he had run into a few that had knew during his long murderous career. It was through that contact he had learned his own name, which brought a sense of self to him. The very awareness was still plowing forward ever stronger to gain control of his own mind. All of his reflections were dematerialized from another controlling burst from the Lich King. Like it or not, he was mentally tied to his master.

Without another consideration of anything beyond his orders he leapt at the tiny creature who had uttered his name. His blade sang as it cut through the air and the vibration when the two metallic blades connected ran up his arm and settled in his shoulder joint. Her foot was suddenly on his belly and gave him a shove, he stumbled several steps backwards before he found his balance. He scolded himself for not seeing that coming, a trick he had often used himself. He was able to get off an icy curse, causing her to shiver she returned the gesture with a slam of light. It burned through his soul like superheated lava, he hissed clutching his chest.

Silence stilled him. It was more eerie than that of death that fell upon the area, he rose his head as a strange breeze drafted over the open landscape. It carried the uncertainty of change, one he did not fully understand even as his commanding officers knelt before the opposing force.

He squinted at the scene to make sure his eyes were not playing tricks. The rest of the ranks of knights were also staring stupidly toward the Chapel. He lowered his sword as the long winded speeches were rattled off, that strange feeling in his gut returned. Their words were haunting and disheartening, the truth wasn't fully revealed until the Lich King himself appeared. His jaw dropped when it was revealed that they, his faithful knights, were mere bait for the mighty paladin.

_Bait? Bait!_

Nahal gritted his teeth, he should have known, if he had two seconds to really think during his enslavement he might have figured it out. The Lich King played by his own rules and used anything and everything for his own goals. He and the rest of his kind were pawns in a life size chess game and they were about to be knocked out of play.

The hilt of his slipped from his gloved fingers and clattered against the rocks at his feet. His hands clutched his skull, agony ignited in his gray matter sweeping through every fiber of his being. He crumbled to the ground in the purest form of anguish, the sensation was as if someone had entered his brain and was pulling it apart bit by bit. He felt someone touching him his arm, he could do nothing to acknowledge it.

Nahal didn't even have time to voice his extreme discomfort, when it vanished leaving him reeling. He heard the threat from the king that he would meet the paladin again. The presence of the master faded completely, his mind was silent.

He forced himself to gain his footing and rose, several of the other knights were doing the same. Not all were affected in this way, each had their own reaction to the sudden disappearance of the link. Some would never be able to rise from the blood saturated ground. Nahal felt the weight of a bone weariness settled upon his frame, as if every hour of doing the kings bidding finally caught up with him. He wanted to pass out from it, he felt himself slipping in and out of reality as more long speeches were given.

An alliance was forged upon the battlefield, it took the sin'dorei a long while to get his brain in gear enough to have some sort of reaction to this. He saw no other avenue but to join this alliance. Returning to the king after this betrayal was unthinkable.

He glanced at the woman who had stuck close to him through the whole ordeal. Her head was bare from the heavy armored helm, her coppery hair falling out of the messy tail. The soft features of her face tugged at the wall that continue to remain between him and his memories, like an itch he couldn't reach.


	4. Chapter 4 the end

Okay, so this was not exactly where I thought I was taking this story. But it seemed right. Hope you are not to upset. (I had the story up but deleted it by accident thinking it was a different story, so I had to re-download it. Sorry for the confusion.)

Nahal felt lost and betrayed by the creatures that had brought this unsavory existence to him. His future was just as lost in the void as his past, he glanced around at the others in the ranks who were moving toward the commanding officers. His gaze returned to the soft features of the elf before him. He knew her that was certain, there was no mistake in that. "I know you," he said, the words rang stupid in his ears. He couldn't think of anything better.

"I am Pejah," she answered as the leaders continued with their peace talk. She stepped forward and wrinkled her nose at the horrific smell that lingered around the once living sin'dorei. "I was…am your sister." An expression of unknown pain rolled over her smooth features. "I was there when you were killed."

Nahal's eyes widened at the information.

"You saved me from the a killing blow," she put her hand over her chest her eyes swelling with tears. "I should have never been there, I wasn't strong enough to fight the forces that were against us. Being the big brother that you have always been you protected me." Tears cascaded down her face as she took in a shaky breath. "I am sorry, if it wasn't for me this might have never happened."

The dead elf wanted to feel something-anything. All she had spoken rang true and he had no reason to deny it. It seemed like forever before he raised his gaze upon the pale flesh of the living.

The hunting screams of the dead rolled through his mind, his mind was snapped back to that moment.

_They were surrounded, the only path of escape was quickly being blocked. Ghouls and other undead monsters were tearing at the ranks like fire through dry grasses. The air was filled with the sounds of the dying and teeth of the ghouls upon metal armor. It was heavy with the stench of rotting bodies and blood, it would make anyone not use to the smell vomit. _

_Nahal felt the beautiful and rich power of the Light flowing through him as he summoned to bring another end to the creatures of the scourge. The power rolled through him naturally and unwavering for it saturated his whole body in a way of a seasoned paladin. His name was shouted and he turned to find Pejah with her helm off and throwing up near a dead ghoul. Behind her was a creature with a sword raised high ready to arch down upon the unsuspecting female. He and the other knight raised toward the sick girl, while he went for the blade welding undead, the other snatched her out of harms way. He wasn't able to get his blade in position fast enough, the tremendous force bounced off the edge of the sword and slammed against his shoulder. He felt the now notched blade tear under the lip of his helm into the soft flesh of his neck. _

_His knees weakened as his life liquid poured down his chest and back. He could hear Pejah screaming and the horn of retreat was blown. The horrific exhaustion filtered in as fast as his blood poured out, he fell hard on the ground in the puddle of his own fluid._

That who he was, a live in command of his own mind and the Light. He peered down at his hands, the skin had no elasticity, it simply stretched like old leather. He let them drop to his sides, he was at a crossroads. He could continue forward and stay in this half life until his body rotted from within.

"No one in the family would talk to me for months," she whispered those haunting eyes snapped to her face. It was her brother, only with a strange tint to his skin and eyes. Even with all that had happened he still stood with nobility. There were not to many sin'dorei males running around with that single ear pierce in the left ear. The unique golden stone that had been mounted on the stud, she recalled he had been so very proud of that little trinket. "It was hard for them to swallow the fact you were no longer."

Nahal would of gasped if the function was still available to him, he understood her guilt and he would not let her feel that anymore. She hadn't been seasoned long enough to be there, it was out of sheer need of swords that forced her upon that battlefield that day. "I don't blame you," he said. "It was a dark time for all of us and we cannot dwell upon the past."

"You…" was all she could get passed her lips. She had lived that day over and over in her mind in some insane effort to change the outcome. She had moved up the ranks of the blood knights in some mind set she would find the critter that killed her brother and find some end to it. "You can forgive me?" That was never anything she was able to receive, especially from herself.

"I ask you one thing, sister."

She stepped forward eager to follow this one great hero of the horde orders. "Anything, Nahal."

"End me," the words were shocking to himself. He felt a strange warmth spreading over him. He was tired, exhausted really of the continual battles that were ever present. He had given up a life in the honor and glory of battle. To rot in this body was not really an option he cared to have. What life awaited him away from battle? What horrific wounds would he inflict upon his noble family by appearing before them in this form.

The words were profound and froze her to the very core of her being. "What?" Her heart raced so face she thought she had simply imagined it. She couldn't possibility just end his life.

"I have lived my life, little sister." Nahal said than rose his hands so she could see his disgusting form, caked with blood and entrails. "Let me finally rest in peace. I think I finally deserve it." It might be a cowards way out not to stumble forward in this path set before him. He was born of the scourge, that was a part of him and if he needed to protect the world from himself. He would. The lich king might have some spell that could take over his mind and he might find himself slaughtering his kin. It wasn't a risk he wanted to take.

"But," she whispered she shook her head not wanting to do that.

"If not you, I will find another to do it."

She knew that determined set in his jaw, those creases on his brow. He wasn't going to back down from this. She wanted to shy away and let someone else hold that mantel. She didn't want to let him down, she had to do it. Pejah's body shook as she pulled her sword free from the sheath, she was torn so greatly at the request. Strangely she was honored he would ask her, one who had been unworthy so long ago. "I love you, Nahal."

"And I you, Pejah, my dear sister." Nahal answered automatically, it was something the pair had often whispered before they had parted. He gave her a nod of encouragement before she was able to take the swing.

His head was detached and fell separate of his body, she fell to her knees her body raked with sobs. A few of the others ran to her. "What are you doing, woman?"

"Freeing my brother," she sobbed her hand resting upon his chest. "He asked me to." She turned to the human. "How can I deny him?"

The other only frowned at her and let out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

She felt Nahal in the purest form he had been once, his transparent arms wrapped around her. His thanks rolled through her giving her peace. She knew she had done the right thing, his spirit was at last free from the mortal realm. All she had to do was deal with the body he left behind before it captured him again.

Fire licked around the pyre where Nahal's body lay, his armor had been cleaned and his head somewhat mounted back on his shoulders. Those who had fought with him in his living years were gathered around the sister of the fallen. They had no words to express their grief nor the words to sum up this great man. They were there in body to show their respect and love for him.

After the fire had more or less gone out, Pejah finally stirred. She had to tell her parents she had killed Nahal again. She turned toward the setting sun, the faint light glinted on the golden stone that was mounted on a stud on her left ear.


End file.
